It bothers me that I can't remember all the things I want to remember, especially things about my children's lives. My son will be four in a week, and I was thinking today about how I can only remember flashes of days we shared when he was just a baby. I can picture the big events like his baptism and his first bath, but many of the small moments, the day-to-day things, have all but disappeared from my memory. This makes me sad.
I want to hold on to everything, every detail, every moment. I always want to remember the look on my daughter's face as she used the big potty for the first time; I want to remember how loving my son was today, how he kept hugging me and wishing me a Happy Valentine's Day over and over again, how he looked right into my eyes as I held him on the couch and told me that he loved me. I cling to memories like these with desperation. I write things down, of course--things the kids say and do--but already, when I go back and read a note from only two years ago, I can't always picture the event I'm reading about; so many of the details are already gone.
Life is so bittersweet.
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